Thirty 8th graders, one 9th grader, and I participated in Ogden City’s Arbor Day tree planting celebration on Friday. The students spent the morning planting trees. Without exception they worked hard. They dug holes, tamped soil, planted trees, and packed compost. Whenever a city worker asked for a person to do something, four or five people volunteered. They were nearly racing each other for opportunities to work. Everyone pitched in. EVERYONE!! My shirt size doubled Friday, not because I had eaten excessively but because my heart was swelling with pride.

We were good for the city and the city was good to us. When lunch time came, they served unlimited pizza, pop, bread sticks, and cookies. Every OPA participant also received a hat and a bright orange t-shirt. “This is the greatest service project ever,” said one of our students as he piled the fourth piece of pizza on his plate.

One gang of six boys planted four huge trees (most groups planted two) and then hauled trash. During the official Arbor Day Ceremonial Presentation of the Ogden as a Tree City Award (39 years running), this sterling group of young men stood at the back (there were not enough chairs). Almost military in appearance, they stood straight and tall, hands clasped behind their backs. Hung around their necks, like medals, were the bright orange t -shirt given them by the city.

As he praised our school, the program’s emcee mentioned the group of boys who, in spite of their apparent defiance, were fabulous workers. Apparent defiance? As I puzzled over his words, the public relations officer standing next me to me whispered, “I understand those boys. I have a 14 year old son who wouldn’t want to put on an orange t-shirt either.”A light of understanding dawned and a flame of indignation rose. The adults present, at least two of them, assumed that I had told my boys to wear the t-shirts and that the boys had insolently put shirts around their necks in an act of marginal compliance.

No. No. And NO. NOT TRUE!! In the first place, I said nothing to the boys about the t-shirts. Nothing. There was nothing for them to defy. Secondly, the t-shirts were made for middle school children and my boys are big. For most of them, the shirts were simply too small; they could not have put them on if they tried. Draping their shirts around their necks was not an act of defiance or marginal compliance; it was, in fact, an act exactly opposite in nature. They donned the shirts in the only manner physically possible because they wanted to belong; they recognized they were part of something great and wanted to be identified with it.My boys are not defiant and don’t you (any of you!!) go about assuming they are!

Which brings me to a soap box…….. Teens are great. GREAT!!

A few months ago I was running west on 4800 S (Roy) at the same time that a large group of students (over a hundred) was walking west on 4800 S, making their way to Rocky Mountain Junior High. The string of students stretched intermittently for over a mile. As I ran up behind the first cluster of students, one boy, apparently alerted by my huffing and puffing, told his buddies to step aside. Not only did the group of boys clear the sidewalk for me, they wished me a good day and valiantly refrained from making any rude comments about my shape, size, or lack of speed. [As middle-aged, painfully-slow, not-slim woman in black running tights I gave them many options for cutting comments.] “Wow,” thought I to myself, “What a great group of young people.”Then I approached a second cluster and the experience repeated itself as it did with a third group of students and a fourth. Every time I ran up behind a set of students, they politely stepped aside to let me pass and frequently yelled to the group ahead, telling them of my approach and advising them to move off the sidewalk. My heart would have swelled in pride over this group of teens as well if it had not been so busy pumping blood to my legs and lungs.

Two Saturdays ago I sponsored clean up service project on the Ogden River. Twenty-four OPA students showed up and spent three hours picking up trash in a drizzling rain. We filled over twenty large black trash bags, retrieved four shopping carts, and had only one student fall into the river.Inevitably, when I walk into OPA in the morning, a student—sometimes one that I know and sometimes one that I don’t—makes an effort to open the front door for me. As I walk the halls to my class, if I am carrying bags or carting boxes, students always ask if they can help. Always.Teens are great, including mine.

Grace was stayed home from school because she felt sick. Too sick to work and too bored to be quiet, she begged to be allowed to watch a show on the computer. Too anti-inane programs to allow downloaded TV shows and too ornery to be compassionate, I steadfastly refused her requests. [Being at home on a school day should not be a pleasant experience.] She asked to use the computer to index genealogical names instead. Hum…..outmaneuvered by my teen again. She did 500 names and has a goal to do 1,000.Tanah texted me from school, “Mom, my throat is on fire.” I responded, “Don’t breathe on anyone. The last thing I need is for you to torch someone.” I thought I was funny…..So…………soap box time again. Don’t assume teens are defiant…..or destructive…..or malicious……or ….. hard. There are teens that are defiant, destructive, malicious, and hard but there are more adults who are defiant, destructive, malicious, and hard. If you are going to make assumptions about teens, assume they are great and hold on to that assumption until it is proven incorrect.Defiantly,Teresa

P.S. I responded to an article in the Standard Examiner written by D. Louise Brown (titled “The silent marjority (minority) needs to make some noise”---it is a great article and worth looking up) and Ms. Brown wrote back. She said “Teresa; Wow, for starts you can write a blog or something. You express yourself so very well.” Great idea! I think I’ll do that…… (SMILE!!)

The world is full of truly amazing people. Truly. Amazing. Let me tell you about a few….

Several weeks ago I substituted at OPA. Clearly, on a day that I substitute, I am not normally scheduled to teach. On most days I am not scheduled to teach, I am scheduled to run the carpool for Miles and two of his boy buddies. On the day I scheduled myself to substitute, I had also scheduled myself to run the carpool which would NOT have been a problem IF I had remembered my carpool obligations but such was not the case.

I did not remember that I was to have run the carpool until our days later. Four days. How did the boys get to and from school? I had no idea. And now for the “truly amazing people” part…… Between the time that I was supposed to run carpool and the time that I remembered that I was supposed to run carpool, I spoke with BOTH of the other carpool mothers, both to them, and NEITHER of them, not either one of them, said anything to me. They did not condemn me, mock me, tease me, or in any way remind me that I was a flake. I spoke with Randee (the mom who ended up driving the boys) multiple times during that my four day clueless period. She did not even drop a hint that she picked up the ball for me. WOW and WOW!! Her graciousness astounds me. I know for certain that I would not have been so gracious. I would not have mocked but I certainly would have teased in a reminding-sort-of way. I wouldn’t have been able to help it; my very human self would have felt compelled to let her know that she messed up and that I fixed it. Until now…….I hope!I hope to follow Randee’s example. The next time someone flakes on me, I am not going to crumble. I vow to be gracious and good and kind and quiet, especially the quiet part. Ironically, no one will ever know if I have kept my vow because to let it be known would be to break it. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Boston. More truly amazing people. Truly. Amazing. Though my heart aches for the families of those slain and for the people whose bodies will never be the same—May God miracle them with comfort and peace—my hope is heartened by the responses of some many thousands of authentic, good-souled people; people who reached out to victims in the very moments of crisis, who belted out the National Anthem at a hockey game, who submitted thousands of photos and videos, who worked tirelessly and relentlessly to analyze thousands of submitted photos and videos, who stayed obediently in lockdown all day, who erupted in spontaneous parades honoring police officers when the final suspect was in custody, who participated at on the SLC Marathon and, to honor those whose lives were forever altered by the Boston bombings, timed their finish to coincide exactly with the time the bombs detonated, and people nationwide whose hearts were drawn in by the tragedy and whose prayers were poured out. I am honored to be part of such a great nation.Finally (for this letter) there were some pretty amazing (and amazed) creatures at Syracuse Arts Academy (SAA) on Wednesday. [NOTE: Lance was at SAA Wednesday and is there most days. He is truly amazing in many fabulous ways but today’s SAA story is not about him.] Let me explain….The CTE (Career/Technical Education) core curriculum in Utah includes a section on agriculture. Grace’s CTE teacher is incredibly good hearted and fairly ignorant about livestock. Grace happens to be fairly knowledgeable about livestock and incredibly eager to share her knowledge. After assuring himself that the animals would be safe—“What if it gets cold? Will the sheep be okay being outside all day?—the teacher gave Grace permission to bring the farm to school.

Early Wednesday morning Dad Noel, Grace, and I loaded three hens, three sheep, and two hogs into the horse trailer and drove to SAA. We built a small barnyard in the school yard and let the show begin. All day long, first period through seventh period Grace instructed her peers (every 7th grader in the school) about livestock; she taught them the difference between Suffolk and Soay sheep, she showed them that sheep have no front teeth on their upper jaw, she demonstrated sheep shearing on the Suffolk ewe, she displayed four different colors of chicken eggs, and she held the pig as she explained the subtle hints offered by pig skin color and degree of tail curl. Grace, who loves livestock and loves an audience, was in hog heaven.

It was cold and the sheep were okay being outside all day. So were the chickens, hogs, parent and grandparent. In fact, parent (me) and grandparent (my dad) were much better than okay; we were in our own version of proud progenitor heaven. How fun it was to see our love of land and animal manifest so expertly in the life of our progeny. WHAAAA-WHOOO!

Love, Teresa

P.S. The Suffolk ewe was shorn to the skin Wednesday; her wool coat (six inches thick) was removed. Temperatures reached 29 degrees F and she was outside all night…and she was fine.P. S. S. Tawny--who qualifies as a neighbor though she lives two towns from us--saw us shivering on the SAA lawn and brought us three steaming cups of gourmet hot cocoa and a couple pounds of trail mix. Amazing. Truly!

Pay days come in many packages, delivery times are often uncertain and amount of the remuneration variable but, when they arrive, it is usually a “satisfaction guaranteed” situation. This week I had several pay days and, I guarantee, I was satisfied (ecstatic would be a more apt descriptor).

Remember Jeff (name changed)? Let me help……Jeff was new to our school this year, having been unsuccessful at his previous school for reasons that became quickly apparent. Determined not to do his classwork (no amount of coaching or cajoling would convince him to even bring a pencil to class, much less use one), he was also a constant disruption. I tried the usual interventions: changed his seating chart, talked to him after class, sat him in the hall, and gave him detention. I offered him his favorite candy bar (KitKat) if he did got 100% on a test. Nothing worked. Finally, after watching him stuff wadded paper down another student’s shirt, I took him in the hall and we called home. I explained the situation to Jason, his father. This was third period. Three minutes after the final bell rang that day a large (very large), bearded man dressed in blue-collar work clothes, came into my room. Enter Jason. This is where I left the story last time.We sat down and father Jason told me that son Jeff denied there was a problem. Hum. After kindly and calmly (my heart was racing!!!!) explaining the situation, Jason and I were on the same page; Jeff, not so much. Having delivered the “club”, I tried to offer Jeff a “carrot”. Looking him in the eye, I sought to win Jeff over, telling him that I know he is a very bright science student (which is true—he will participate in class discussions and always knows the correct answer), that I am invested in his success, and that I will help him in anyway legally possible. I asked him what motivates him…..movie tickets? Gift card to the mall? Get-out-of-homework-free pass? I got no response.

I also go no change. The meeting with dad bore no fruit. What to do? The back-breaking straw came when two of my Special Ed girls told me that Jeff was bullying them, stealing pencils from their binders and saying mean things. Unacceptable. I could not have Jeff in my class any more.

Solution: I would not allow Jeff into the classroom. The reading teacher gave me a small desk and the Special Ed teacher (next door) gave me permission to house the desk in her room. The next day I stopped Jeff at the door and explained that he was not allowed more than 4 feet into my classroom for any reason. PERIOD. He would stand in the hallway until everyone else had entered, then he was to go across the hall, retrieve his small desk, set just inside the classroom, and sit in it. He was not to get out of the desk for any reason. EVER.

When I was telling my family this story, Tanah said, “He must HATE you!” Maybe….maybe not…..

We’ve been doing this for several months now. I had to remind him—firmly—once or twice that he was out of his zone but, for the most part, it has worked fabulously; more fabulously than I ever hoped in fact. No more wandering, no more bullying, no more disrupting others AND, unanticipated outcome, he has started completing classwork. Oh my lands! OH MY LANDS! He earned 16% in my class first quarter and 34% second quarter. I started the solitary confinement the last few weeks of third quarter but it was too late to do much for his grade; he had previously earned 0/200 points on the science fair project and 40/100 points on the geology test.Last week I gave a 12 point quiz. At quiz’s end, he told me I owed him a KitKat. ??? “I got 100%,” he showed me. It took a minute for the light to dawn but, eventually, I got it…..and so did he. I brought him a small KitKat the next day.Friday we took a physics test; 58 questions, some of them very abstract. Though we reviewed for it very thoroughly in class, it was still a hard, HARD test. On average, about 10-12 of my students earn 100% on unit tests. On the physics test, only four people earned 100%.

I was at my computer third period, fielding questions from the line of students that had formed. Soon Jeff was at my elbow. Before I could nail him for being out of his seat he said, “I missed only one.” I started to say, “That is fabulous” but could not get the words out. With a huge gleam in his eye, he said, “Not!” and then showed me the score on his exam. 100%. 100%!!!! I screamed. He beamed.

I was so excited I went across the hall at the first opportunity and told the Special Ed teacher. She was so excited she called the head secretary and told her. The head secretary was so excited she told the assistant principal. WHAAAAA-WHOOO and WHAAAAA-WHOOO! Children have no idea how much we, their educators, really, REALL care. They own huge sections of our hearts.

Many of students who typically score poorly on tests saw significant improvement in their test score, even though the test was significantly harder. Why? They studied. Simple. Powerful. Effective. This time they studied and it paid off. I encourage, challenge, and beg them to study. And, this time, they did it. Across the board, those who studied did well. And I could not be more pleased. Which causes me to reflect on Christ……. He encourages us, challenges us, and begs us to obey. Simple. Powerful. Effective. And, when we do, it pays off, across the board. And, my guess is that our resultant successes bring Him joy. And, conjecturing further, my guess is that He has a much greater capacity for joy than do we, so His joy at our success is probably so great as to be incomprehensible to us in our mortal state. Perhaps this is part of the source of the eternal joy we are promised when we become heirs to His kingdom….

I have a giant KitKat in my purse, awaiting my next interaction with Jeff.Teaching is fun! Monday we did a levers and pulley’s lab outside. Using saw horses, weight sets, 2 x 4 planks, winches, and my van we experienced the mechanical advantage created by simple machines. It is generally a fun, hands-on, educational day outside. It is also generally warm. Monday was not warm and, therefore, less fun. Allie, a skin-and-bones 8th grader who, like my daughter and many other teens I know, does not wear a coat to school even in sub-freezing temperatures, kept asking to go inside. No. “Please.” No. “Please” No. Teeth chattering, she changed her question. “If I go inside, will you give me a detention?” Yes. The second time she asked the detention question I found a quilt in the back of the van and wrapped her in it. To the best of my knowledge, she did not suffer any lasting effects from hypothermia.I spent a full day teaching 7th graders this week, as a substitute. I introduced myself when they entered the classroom and told them that, since I am the school’s 8th grade science teacher, next year they would be mine, “ALL MINE!!” [Evil laugh] The sub plans called for a test review so I asked if they had questions. One student requested the definition for stimulus. I let out a blood-curdling, full-diaphragm, raise-the-roof scream. The effect was instant and enormous; I had everyone’s attention. “That,” I explained calmly, “was a stimulus.” They loved it. So did I. It is easy to put on a show for one day and put on a show I did. Those 7th graders will spend the summer looking forward to 8th grade science. Only when it is too late will they learn that I also do things like cause hypothermia and put students in solitary confinement. [Evil laugh!]Buying a KitKat was not my only pay day this week. I also bought a driver’s license. [YEA!]

Getting Chick to practice driving has been harder than pulling wisdom teeth; he resisted my every suggestion that he get behind the wheel. “The only reason I am getting my driver’s license,” he told me testily as he drove to the driver’s license bureau, “is so that you will quit bugging me to drive.” As it turns out, after actually getting his license, he found lots of reasons to have one. New license in hand, his voice dancing with barely suppressed excitement, he asked if he could drive to Gram and Grandad’s, spend the night there, and drive back by 5:30 a.m. the next morning so he would be on time for early morning seminary. Yes. Thanks to the person who left white bread on the porch. Miles is thrilled.On a non-pay day note, I learned something about myself this week. I have never thought of myself as snobbish—can one be a snob and muck out chicken coops?—but I learned that I am a book snob. A gentle, elderly friend chose a sappy, shallow, insipid book for book club. I read it to support her but I read it in the privacy of my bedroom (where no one could see me reading it) and I did NOT record it on my “List of Books Read in 2013”. No, I will not tell you the name or author.

Lance started doing our taxes yesterday afternoon. Last night he said that he probably would not get any sleep until Sacrament meeting (Sunday worship services) but he was wrong. He actually got to bed at 2:00 a.m. We did not have to pay extra this year……which is kind-of like a pay day, right?Some pay days are still anticipated. We have pigs on the place; we brought them from North Ogden (where we left the rooster) Saturday morning. They are little and cute. Later they will be larger and not so cute. Even later they will be breakfast. This is the pay day we anticipate.

“…for my work is not yet finished, neither shall it be until the end of man…” (2 Nephi 29:9). God’s To-Do list never gets done either. What a relief!!!!! Though I get very frustrated with the eternal nature of my To Do list, I am very pleased to be in such good company.

This past week was my spring break—no school for five days—and my to-do list was a full page long. I planned to make a quilt, assemble scrapbooks, craft lesson plans, catch up on my climate class homework, score papers and record grades for my 8th graders’ homework, scrub kitchen cabinets, iron, mend, search the attic for shorts for Miles, work on Personal Progress with Grace, and make cheese, to mention a few.

I made cheese. Or rather, we made cheese, Grace and I. The recipe called for powdered milk, which was good. The cheese tasted like powdered milk, which was not so good. If any of you have a relatively simple cheese recipe that calls for rennet tablets (we cannot find liquid rennet anywhere locally), please share.

For the most part, the rest of the list did not get done. My work is not yet done and, it appears, neither shall it be for a long time. In fact my work probably will not be done until the end of man, which is not likely to occur anytime soon. So…………..enjoy the ride, right?

I certainly enjoyed Friday’s hike up Adam’s Canyon with Ron Jewett, an almost-long-lost-and-recently-found friend. This time of year the canyon is glorious; remnants of fall cling, golden and red, to nearly naked branches while bright green buds, heralds of spring, burst from those same nearly naked branches. Crusty white snow fields remind one of winter and occasional showers of sunshine promise that summer will come. Stunning.Unwilling to cage my toes, I wore hiking sandals. Conceding to the likelihood that there would be snow in the upper reaches (there was), I also wore wool socks. My toes were happy but my butt was not. Hiking sandals were not designed for snow; they have fabulous traction on sandstone but slip like skis on snow. And, while they may slip like skis on snow, they do not work like skis on snow; there is no turning or stopping. Boom, splat, down I sat (and slid).While picking out this year’s fair pigs, the gentleman farmer who will be selling us the pigs asked if he could rent our rooster. He does NOT have a rooster and DOES have a hen that is nesting. Currently she is faithfully warming a nest of sterile eggs and he would like to see her maternal instincts bear fruit (or chicks, as the case may be). When I told Lance about the rooster rental proposition, he accused my friend of pimping the bird. I started to explain my friend was the customer, not the hustler…..until I realized that if he was the customer, then I was the …… Time to change topics.Mr. Miles still likes M----. One of his best friends also likes M-----. This would not do so they agreed to settle the matter with a game of Connect Four. The game’s winner would have courting rights; the loser would step out of the picture. Miles won. Now he and M---- sit together during carpet time every day.

Miles loves white bread, probably more than he loves M---, and the only time he gets white bread is when he takes the Sacrament during our worship service at church. Last Sunday he whispered to me, “Why do they make the pieces of Sacrament bread so small?” Whispering back I explained that we don’t take the Sacrament to get something to eat; we take it in remembrance of Christ’s body. In all earnestness he replied, “But if we got bigger pieces it would take more time to eat it and we would remember Christ longer.” Good point.I give my students homework every class. Their most recent homework assignment was “Enjoy Spring Break”. With a completely straight face and stark sincerity, Connor said, “Mrs. Hislop, I don’t think I can complete my homework in time. It will take me at least two weeks to fully fulfill the assignment.” I wonder if Connor will be in class on Monday and, if he isn’t, will he blame my homework assignment for his absence. Perhaps his to-do list is as long as mine.

Well, my to-do list is not done but this letter is. Have a fabulous week.